Delta_Ricochet

by Cristin Harber

  Deacon’s flat smile was an unsaid no.

  “That’s more of an order than a request,” Gloria qualified.

  “I work better alone,” Deacon added. “With people who stick to the plan.”

  Richard opened his mouth to defend his attempt at shooting the man and Deacon had qualified as her threat’s bodyguard but thought better of it. Maybe he was worried she’d shove a cyanide pill down his throat when he slept at night. There wasn’t a procedure for screw ups like this, and she and Richard both knew Gloria might as well treat losing their target, her source of information, as an offense as grave as capture.

  Then again, she was supposed to share her life with him. Feelings and emotions were such headaches.

  “And,” Richard snapped. “I work better without a CIA-know-it-all ghost—”

  “When it’s your reputation—” She glared. “I’ll care what else you have to say.”

  They turned, and she’d had quite enough, ringing a delicate bell on the edge of her desk for her tea service to ease her fraying nerves.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  There weren’t many times in Colin’s life when he had lain awake instead of racking up hours sleeping. None of those times had been when he was already in bed. Watching Adelia work through her mental hang-up and then climax had been powerful. He didn’t get the why, but he had spent most of her time sleeping theorizing.

  Her biological father had been a pimp. She had been sold for sex.

  Mayhem had purchased her—even if they did so to save her—and Colin wasn’t sure what kind of place that compound would be to raise a teenage girl.

  Even if she hit the universe’s lotto and something tragic hadn’t happened to her, she likely hadn’t had great positive examples of women in her life—at the very least, not when she was younger. The jury was still out on her time with Mayhem, as far as he was concerned.

  It was as if she’d been schooled in the idea that she couldn’t get off without him. Did that make sense? Colin pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t have the first clue about psychology, despite years of working with trafficking victims. Adelia wasn’t one of their victims. Yet she was, and he couldn’t forget where she came from or what she knew.

  And maybe that was part of why they were in this mess. Her fear of climaxing was almost like her need to run away from him when he wanted to help. She had to go dark, work alone, survive alone.

  She flinched, batting the air unexpectedly, then settled down.

  What was driving her to run from him? What couldn’t she trust him with?

  Again, she twitched, waving away a dream, but this time, her pink lips mumbled for whatever haunted her to go away.

  “It’s a dream,” Colin soothed. “You’re okay.”

  She quieted, snuggling against him again, and the minutes rolled by. His side hurt, and he needed to go check the front door for the pill delivery they were expecting, but he didn’t want to move away from her.

  Adelia mumbled again, but this time, her dreams seemed to hold less of a scary hold over her, and the occasional grin appeared as she stretched awake.

  “Are you asleep?”

  “Mm-hmm,” Adelia purred. “Kinda, sorta.”

  Cute. Colin leaned into his pillow. “Kinda, sorta, you are adorable.” This was what he needed to recover: a safe house and Adelia. Everything else could wait.

  “You are too.” Her sleepy eyes blinked open.

  “I don’t know about that.” He ignored the throbbing in his side as he leaned over to kiss the top of her head. “But Javier once told me not to disagree with a Brazilian woman. Ever.”

  Adelia’s laughter was stilted, and her warm eyes dulled.

  “You okay?” He leaned back, again ignoring the discomfort that would be there for a few days. “You had a nightmare, I think.”

  Lines etched across her forehead. “Ugh. Yeah.”

  “Do you remember it?”

  She nodded, rubbing her temples. “Yeah, it’s—I don’t know. Never mind.”

  The pain of her dream clearly still weighed heavy, and he hated that she boxed him out. One step forward, two steps back. It was like whenever he thought he’d figured something out, she’d closed another passage.

  Then again, maybe he was high as a kite or septic and hallucinating. His side hurt like a bitch. Maybe he was just getting older. “What was your dream about?”

  “I can’t remember.” She scowled at the dream that seemed to flash before her eyes.

  “Of course not.”

  She twisted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. I’m curious about your nightmare. You don’t remember. No worries.”

  “Right. I don’t.”

  Oh, for Christ sake. She did too! He could see it all over her distracted face. “What the hell is so bad that you won’t tell me? Mayhem problems? Something you think I haven’t seen before with trafficking?”

  “Stop, Colin.”

  “I’m serious. Why won’t you let anyone in?”

  “If you were such an open book, you would’ve asked why you don’t let me in. But it’s a front. You’re the kind, confident soldier guy who can convince others to walk toward danger.” She flashed a placating, toothless smile. “And I’m the person who’d rather keep you safe by keeping my thoughts to myself.”

  He almost choked on the drama. “You’re a piece of work. Try me. Tell me one thing. Boil it all down to one sentence—whatever you think is so damn bad. I’ll prove how you can trust me.”

  “Gloria Astor traffics women, and that’s why she’s so damn bad.”

  He stiffened, inching back to be sure Adelia was awake and not dreaming—or hallucinating. She wasn’t. Maybe she’s half-comatose and hyper-aware. He’d been like that before after no sleep for an extended period, but she hadn’t been trained for it. Her mind was still on the run, and she trusted him. It was a vulnerable spot to be in. “Can you be serious?”

  “Um-hmmm.” Everything about her look and tone begged him to issue a challenge.

  And he would. But first he had to triple check she wasn’t sleep talking or sleep something because what Adelia suggested was madness. “Gloria Astor?”

  “At least we know there’s nothing wrong with your hearing.” Adelia twisted her lips.

  “Don’t be a smart ass, Adelia.”

  Her defensive posture roared at his condescension, and if she hadn’t compared Mother Teresa to Jessica Rabbit, he wouldn’t have thought she’d gone bonkers.

  “Why’s Delta protecting her?” Adelia pushed.

  Why did they protect anyone? “She’s a client.”

  Adelia’s eyebrows arched for as long it took her to inch back. “She’s not who you think she is.”

  Colin didn’t like the distance, and he didn’t like questions about his work. If she had a reason to question what the rest of the world knew to be true, then Adelia needed to spit out more than vague assertions. But she didn’t, and his patience was growing thin. “And?”

  “She’s not.”

  “Well, neither are you, and you don’t see me scooting away.” Colin tapped deep into his inner reserves to keep from arguing more. Hair dangled over her cheeks to hide her expressions. “I mean—”

  “Don’t worry about what you mean.” She brushed her hair back as he reached to help. “Don’t.”

  His hand froze. He pulled back. “All right.”

  Unsaid words and tension hung in the air. He didn’t think either of them would understand if they tried to explain. Chemistry wasn’t enough. Caring for one another couldn’t support the weight of the unshared unknown—

  “I have to tell you something.” She interrupted his spiral of thoughts. Maybe he was wrong. Adelia wanted to share, maybe more than he knew how to listen, and he waited in the silence as she moved again, allowing more distance between them than Colin wanted.

  “I’m going to listen.” And he would try. Not that he understood when Adelia said things that were the equivalent of tell
ing him black was a cheery yellow color. But he would try his damnedest.

  “Gloria Astor is the enemy. Mine. Yours. I know you can’t see it.”

  “No,” he admitted. “I cannot.”

  “The entire world can’t, but it’s true.”

  “Gloria Astor,” Colin repeated.

  Adelia nodded. “The only way I could prove it would hurt a lot of people.”

  “So, don’t prove it.” He inched his hand close, but she ignored it. “Ignore her. Pretend you’ve never heard of her.”

  Adelia shook her head. “She’s evil, and that kind of sickness has to be stopped.”

  “What kind?”

  “And the only way to stop her from hurting others will hurt people I love.” Her face twisted with unshared pain. “But I have to.”

  “Have to what!”

  “Stop her. She a monster. The monster!”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Adelia?”

  “I never wanted to do this to any of you. It just kind of… ricocheted.”

  “Me? Mayhem? You have to hurt us to stop Gloria Astor?” Colin asked dumbfounded. There was no way Gloria Astor could be connected to a motorcycle gang without Titan knowing about it.

  Her lips sealed, the pink turning a fleshy white.

  “Why do you care about Mayhem? They have a shoot-to-kill order on you!”

  “There’s so much about that organization that you don’t—you’ll never—understand.”

  “Apparently. Gloria’s a saint.” He’d known Gloria since one of the first UN fundraising events his parents hosted overseas when they’d first received their diplomatic orders. Gloria was nearly family to many in the community of protecting human rights.

  “You said you’d listen, and you’re not even trying.” Adelia pushed away the covers. He’d thought the dark circles under her exhausted eyes were bad, but they’d been nothing until coupled with disappointment. Now Adelia’s light dimmed, a mixture of giving up on him and the world. “You don’t want to listen.”

  Fucking hell. Colin pushed onto his elbow, grinding his molars as he sat up. “Wait a minute.”

  Disbelief flitted across her face before floating away. “Nothing is how it seems, and you know that.”

  His head pounded along with the pulsing thump of blood along his surgical wound. Maybe it was the effects of anesthesia, but he wasn’t following.

  “This… this, what do I call it?” She shrugged incredulously. “Pop-up operating room? A surgeon and medical team that can materialize out of thin air?”

  “In a safe house.” It wasn’t unheard of.

  “That’s not normal. We’re in a Baltimore suburb.”

  To be fair, he figured a lot of mobsters had the same set up and wouldn’t be surprised if Mayhem had their own logistical system that they could rely on. “What’s your point?”

  “It’s like the Santa Claus of black ops showed up with bullet-cauterizing doctors and his merry band of anesthesiologists and techs, gifting antibiotics. In what world does that happen? Yours.”

  “Mine. So what?”

  “Now why can’t you believe me about that Astor?”

  “You want me to believe that a saint is the devil when you have no proof?”

  “You drove to a house believing that a surgeon would stitch you up.”

  “Glue. Because he would, because my boss decided, because it’s happened before and will happen again.”

  Adelia’s nostrils flared when she blew out. “You went on faith.”

  “It’s what we do.” Delta team was a ghost team. They showed up when called and did what they were told. By the end of the day, lives were better because of the orders they followed. End of story.

  But she balked. “You have no idea what I do!”

  He realized that she was trembling. “I know what Mayhem does.”

  Adelia didn’t say anything. Hell, he maybe knew some of what Mayhem did. But he likely didn’t know all of it and would never want to know. She knew that. He needed that deniability.

  “Adelia?”

  Her bottom lip shook, but she didn’t crawl off the bed the way he expected her to do.

  Colin pressed forward, “You skimmed money from Mayhem.”

  Tears waterfalled down her face, and the heavy weight of disappointment was enough to knock them both over. “For a reason.”

  “Yeah. That’s where you lose me.”

  Her head dropped, and she covered her face. “I made a vow I’d never share.”

  “Where are they now?” Colin lumbered from out of his covers and pulled her against his chest. It hurt to hold her—but not because of his side. He hated that she wouldn’t trust him more than Mayhem, that she valued a vow to an organization he didn’t respect more than she trusted him.

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “And I won’t unless you explain.” He rubbed her back. “Doesn’t that make sense?”

  Her grumble disagreed, and all of him ached to lighten her burden. Colin pulled her to the pillows—grunting through the pain—then silence settled.

  Maybe she’d fallen asleep again. That was probably an important thing. She needed the rest, and this time, he wouldn’t say a word, not about Astor or Delta team, and nothing about Mayhem. For all Colin was concerned, they could talk about ice cream and puppies for the remainder of their days. Though that made for an unrealistic plan. Flawed plan aside, rest was the only thing he was supposed to do until the doc gave a thumbs-up to move out. Short of their safe house sustaining an air attack by a hellfire missile, Colin wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was she.

  “You always follow the rules,” Adelia whispered.

  Colin inched back. “Not always.”

  “Just mostly,” she teased softly.

  “I’m not as much of a stick in the mud as you think.” He eased close again. “And I’ve tried to understand Mayhem’s point of view.”

  “I used Mayhem money and replaced it with the next bank deposits like a Ponzi scheme. Always moving it from one account to the next within the main banking system, transferring the right amount back while it still said the first amount was pending. Anyone who double checked would assume a transfer error.”

  Colin blinked, not sure he wanted to know much about how Mayhem banked, but he was ready for Adelia to confide in him. He nodded.

  “No one double checked.” She bit her lip. “Until I was caught.”

  “That’ll do it.”

  “Before that,” she continued. “I couldn’t stop unless I had money to pay off the last withdrawal.” Her head tilted. “I don’t know how Ethan figured it out as quickly as he did, but he must’ve gone to Tex or Hawke, and by the time Tex told me what Mayhem knew, Ethan was dead”

  “Pops killed Ethan over you?”

  She nodded.

  “Then why isn’t he running from them? Why the hell—” Colin fumed. “What the fuck is wrong with those people!” Tex killed to protect her? Avenge her? What the hell did it matter. Adelia was still on the run.

  “He wouldn’t let me explain—”

  “And I’m begging you to tell me, and you won’t.” His temples pounded. Mayhem was so far beyond fucked up. “They have you brainwashed. The MC’s like a cult.”

  Her lips bunched. “What? No.”

  “One person dies, another doesn’t. Another person can kill someone, but, hell, who cares?” He threw his arms out and pain radiated from his side. “You’ll fall over yourself to tell your Pops, but he throws you to the wolves, and here I am, and you don’t tell me shit about your secret bullshit world.”

  “I bought people.”

  Colin stared at her blank face, finally offering the only thing that made sense, “Bought them off?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I used their money to purchase people. Women and girls. I bought merchandise.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  The disgust and horror on Colin’s face froze the next words on Adelia’s tongue. She couldn’t force out the ‘a
nd’ to connect what she’d done with any explanation of saving them.

  In his mind, he could imagine her as someone who could do the unthinkable, and the more she stared at him, the more aghast he became.

  Traffickers were like cockroaches. Kill one and a dozen more popped up. But keep one in your sights, and you could manage them. Lenora had cultivated her long-term plans, and they were going after the monster, the source of all evil: Gloria Astor.

  He saw her like that? Evil?

  When Adelia had dreamed up her idea to buy trafficked girls and find the resources to re-establish their lives, she hadn’t known how hard the task would be. But it was the only option. Taking out the middlemen was pointless. Law enforcement was too slow. That was when she’d had to enlist the Mayhem old ladies. And for as often as loose lips caused drama at Mayhem, no one spoke once they were initiated into Adelia’s network. It was as if they knew the hell that she had been through and believed that if she was crazy enough to do this, she was crazy enough to bury them if they so much as uttered a word that would out her operation. They had a code of silence.

  Yet here she was, getting ready to tell Colin more than she’d ever tell Tex.

  “You bought people?” His color had drained. “You’re going to have to explain.”

  “If I do, and you share with anyone—”

  “Anyone?”

  “—like your team, people I love will die.”

  He blinked as though he stared at a ghost. “I’m… so…”

  She reached for his hand, and he snatched it away.

  Adelia’s eye shot to his arm, tucked away like a wounded animal, and then his face, covered in unmasked disgust. What the—? The sick realization that had frozen her tongue continued to batter her. “You’re quick to judge.”

  “You haven’t said much I shouldn’t.”

  Why did she expect him to understand? They came from separate worlds. His was made of prep schools and diplomat dinners. He was a leader in a powerful military organization. Everything about Colin was straight and narrow. Closed-minded. “I said enough to find out what you really think.”